God. I severely need to get my mojo back. I open my closet and start pairing my outfits for the week. Nothing like styling my clothes to get my mind back into its happy place.

There’s a knock on my door and Sunhee pokes her head in, hair damp from showering. Her pixie cut is growing out, curling naturally around her ears. A few months ago, Sunhee’s parents demanded that DB cut off all her hair, saying that it’d help set her apart from the rest of us. We may be international superstars, but sometimes our parents still see us as eleven-year-old little girls who need their careers managed. After the haircut, the girls called her “Pororo” for weeks, referring to the helmet-wearing cartoon penguin. I can tell she still feels self-conscious about it by the way she’s always playing with the ends, but I think it looks cute on her. It totally goes with her cherublike face.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

“Sure,” I say. “Don’t mind all the clothes on the bed. I’m just getting my outfits ready.”

Sunhee steps in wearing her fluffy bathrobe and looks down at my bed, lightly touching the vintage Vuitton mint floral dress that I laid out for tomorrow. “I loved your airport outfit today,” she says wistfully. “No wonder Nell Kramer tagged you. I wish I was as stylish as you. My photos never come up on airport fashion watches.”

I feel another thrill when I think about it. Will I really be able to go to Paris Fashion Week this spring? It sounds surreal.

“What are you talking about?” I pat a free spot on my bed for her to sit down. “Everyone was raving about that cute little shift you wore at Narita.” I can tell that Sunhee needs some hyping up. She’s always visiting my room when she needs a pep talk. “You know, the Burberry shirt dress? I’m dying for one, but they’re much better on you.”

“You think so?” she says, perking up a little.

“Definitely. Here.” I rummage through my closet and pull out white lace-up ankle boots. “These would look hot with that dress. You can borrow them if you want.”

“Really?” Sunhee squeals. She takes the boots and then throws her arms around me. “I die! Thank you!”

In a lot of ways, she reminds me of Leah. Their personalities are totally different, but in age they’re only two years apart and I find myself automatically slipping into the older-sister role around Sunhee.